


A Game of Poker

by Fuhadeza



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Loss of Virginity, Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 11:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16491431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuhadeza/pseuds/Fuhadeza
Summary: ‘Or maybe you like being outplayed.’ Brigitte reached across the table. Her finger stopped just short of Hana’s chest, tracing the logo on her Meka t-shirt in the air in front of her. ‘Awfully cruel cat,’ she whispered, ‘playing with a sweet little bunny like you.’‘Like I said,’ Hana said, proud that her voice was only a little shaky. ‘I play to win.’Brigitte’s smile dripped confidence. ‘Prove it.’In which Hana makes an ill-advised bet.





	A Game of Poker

**Author's Note:**

> Usually in my fic I try to write realistic romance. I want there to be lots of communication. I want it to feel like a relationship that could develop in real life, even if that means missing out on some of the more unrealistic romantic tropes.
> 
> This? This is self-indulgent smut. Enjoy!
> 
> (The majority of my poker experience consists of casual games of five-card draw. My apologies if I've gotten any of the details of Texas hold 'em wrong!)

Hana didn’t think of herself as a gambler. There was something sleazy about the word: an implication that she relied on luck. No, Hana wasn’t a gambler. She was a gamer, and poker was just another game, and if it happened to include an element of gambling, that fact didn’t make her any less good at it.

All of which was to say that, low as the buy-in was, her weekly poker game still played for real money. It was no different than playing a video game. She played her best when there were ranking points on the line, and if she was being honest with herself, she cared about those marginally more than she cared about money.

And, ultimately, it was simply more _fun_ with a little something on the line.

‘We expecting someone else?’ she said as she took her customary seat, Fareeha on her left, Jesse on her right—only now there was a gap there instead, an empty seat between her and him.

‘Evenin’ to you too, Hana,’ he said. There were stacks of chips arrayed neatly in front of him, and he slid one over to her in exchange for a pair of bills. ‘As a matter of fact, we are. Seems we have us some fresh meat.’

‘Do we.’ The chips were her favourite thing about poker, nice and weighty, and she clicked two together in the full knowledge the noise annoyed everyone else around the table.

‘She heard me telling Emily about last week’s game,’ Lena said, trying and failing to roll a chip across her knuckles. ‘Asked if she could join us.’ She met Hana’s look with a roll of her eyes. ‘Pretty sure I don’t need your permission to invite someone new, luv.’

‘Hmm. Who is it?’

‘New girl. Brigitte.’

Hana brightened. ‘That’s not so bad. Could use some eye candy around here.’ She became very aware of three pairs of eyes turning their attention on her. ‘What? None of you pay any attention in the gym? Oh, right, sorry. You guys are fine, I guess, but, you know. _Old_.’

There followed the sort of exasperated silence Hana prided herself on bringing about.

‘I don’t know,’ Fareeha drawled. ‘Are we comfortable with that sort of thing coming from a kid?’

‘Hey! I’m not a—’

‘Blimey, she’s not wrong, though, is she?’

Jesse cleared his throat. ‘Might I suggest—’

‘Brigitte!’ Fareeha said, cutting across whatever objection Jesse was about to voice. ‘Hana was just telling us how much she admired your exercise routine.’

And the thing was, Hana had only been trying to wind the others up: but now Fareeha had put her on the spot, and here was Brigitte Lindholm, taking the seat between her and Jesse, and her shirt sleeves were rolled up nearly to her shoulders, and Hana found herself momentarily at a loss.

Brigitte smiled. ‘Well, thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the gym, though?’

Hana searched Brigitte’s face for some sign she was being made fun of, but that smile was much too genuine. ‘I never _use_ the gym.’ Her tone made it clear _just_ how absurd the idea was. ‘But sometimes I like to watch.’

Across the table Lena was stifling laughter. Jesse sighed. ‘Lena filled you in?’ he said, in the slightly-too-loud way that said, Someone Needs To Be The Adult Here, then handed Brigitte the final stack of chips.

‘Texas hold ‘em, right?’ Brigitte took the chips, but her gaze was still on Hana, quietly curious, and it was starting to make her fidget.

‘Right. No ante, small blind’s a buck.’ Jesse took out the cards, walked them through a few riffle shuffles, and started to deal. He wasn’t the best player, but he could handle a deck of cards better than most, Hana would give him that.

‘Don’t forget the house rules,’ Lena said, grinning. ‘Once per game, you can match any bet with something wacky.’

‘In McCree’s case,’ Fareeha said, ‘that usually means he bets his hat, and then whoever wins it feels sorry for him and gives it back at the end.’ Jesse shot her a look, but finished dealing without missing a card.

‘The rest of us are more fun,’ Lena put in. ‘One time Hana bet a ride in her mech.’

‘Did she?’ Brigitte, to the left of the dealer, tossed the single chip demanded of the small blind into the centre of the table. ‘I’ve been trying to get into her mech for _weeks_.’

‘Tough,’ Hana said. ‘I won that hand.’ She made big blind and checked her cards: _10♠, 5 ♦_. Nothing special, but then she didn’t need anything special, not on the first hand.

‘Good thing, too,’ Fareeha said, ‘since _technically_ you’re not allowed to take it out for joyrides. Fold,’ she added, tossing her cards aside, and Lena and Jesse quickly followed suit.

Brigitte glanced between them. ‘Am I missing something?’ she said, adding another chip to her bet. ‘Call.’

‘ _Boring_.’ Hana eyeballed half her stack and pushed it into the middle, where it promptly fell over. ‘I raise however much that is.’

‘That’s what you’re missing,’ Jesse said, sighing and reaching into an inside pocket and producing a cigar. Hana grinned: it was always an accomplishment, making him resort to tobacco so early. ‘She always does that on the first hand.’

‘Best to just let me have it.’ Hana smiled sweetly.

Brigitte laughed. ‘And what sort of first impression would that make?’ She made a point of counting out her chips in a neat stack and placed it next to the pile that constituted Hana’s bet. ‘Call.’

Hana narrowed her eyes. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She’d happened to win the first hand four or five times in a row, back when they’d started playing together, and since then the others hadn’t bothered challenging her for it. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Deal, cowboy.’

They passed through the flop and turn, neither of them willing to risk more than they already had on a game of chicken, but when the river came down, Hana wasn’t willing to let a two-pair go to waste that easily: _7 ♥️, A♣, 5♠, J♠, 10♦_. ‘Raise,’ she said, tossing another handful of chips on the pile, and leaning back with an easy, calculated smile on her face.

‘Call,’ Brigitte said, so fast that Hana’s smile dropped a measure.

‘Two-pair,’ she said. ‘Fives and tens.’

‘Sorry,’ Brigitte replied, flipping her cards over— _A ♥️, A♠_—and for all the world she sounded like she meant it. ‘Trip aces.’

‘ _Really?_ ’ Hana said. ‘Pocket aces on the _first fucking hand?_ ’

‘Language,’ Fareeha said, and Hana was quite sure she was trying not to laugh.

‘Oh, fuck off, _Pharah_.’ She crossed her arms under her breasts and glared around the table.

Brigitte gathered the cards and started to shuffle. Her new chips were already lined up in front of her. ‘You’re cute when you sulk,’ she said, like it was the most normal comment in the world, ‘but I’m not sure the rest of the table agrees.’ Her eyes glinted with mischief. ‘Maybe I’ll let you win next time. You know, for their sake.’

‘Like _hell_ you will,’ Hana said, snatching up her cards with a vehemence that, if she was being honest, was trying to make up for the fact that she hadn’t minded losing the hand nearly as much as she should have. There was something— _fun_ —about sparring with Brigitte.

The game progressed as it normally did from there. Lena, never the most cautious of players, went out on an ill-advised call and bought back in, only to win Jesse’s hat on the very next hand. Hana won half a dozen minor hands, and her stack recovered to something like its starting size, but it wasn’t until an hour and a half later that the opportunity she’d been waiting for arrived.

It started off just another low-stakes hand. No one seemed particularly excited by the flop— _10 ♦, 4♠, J♦_—but when Lena dealt the turn, _2 ♦_, Jesse’s eyes lit up. From there it was a simple matter of needling Brigitte as the bets went higher and higher. The river came up _K♣_. Jesse looked like he couldn’t believe his luck.

‘C’mon now,’ Hana said as Brigitte frowned over her chips. ‘A pretty face will only get you so far. You gonna pony up or what?’

‘I know it will,’ Brigitte shot back, ‘or you’d be doing much better than you are.’

For a moment Hana wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. ‘What can I say? I’d rather be good than pretty.’

‘Right now you’re managing just the opposite,’ Brigitte said, but the smile tugging at her lips was so infectious, Hana found herself returning it before the words had really registered.

Lena, who’d folded several rounds of betting earlier, let out a low whistle. ‘Blimey, Hana, you’ve been holding out. I wouldn’t have guessed you had a genuinely flirty bone in your body.’ In a stage whisper, she added: ‘Is it the freckles?’

‘I’m not flirting,’ Hana snapped, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks. ‘I’m _winning_. It’s called trashtalk.’

‘Sure it is.’

‘All right,’ Brigitte said. ‘You _did_ say I shouldn’t let you win. Call.’

Hana smiled as Brigitte’s bet grew to the exact amount she’d won off Hana in the first hand. ‘I have absolutely nothing,’ she said.

The confusion on Brigitte’s face was worth everything. ‘What? I have—’

‘Ace-queen, I know.’ Hana jerked her thumb at Jesse. ‘But his flush beats your straight. Bam! If I can’t have those chips, _neither can you_.’

Jesse shrugged apologetically and revealed his cards: _9 ♦, 7♦_. Silence reigned for several seconds. ‘I don’t know what’s more impressive,’ Brigitte said eventually, ‘how petty that was, or the fact that you were actually dead right about everything.’ The tone in her voice told Hana it was the latter. ‘I’m not above admitting when I’m beaten.’

‘You’re cute when you’re beaten,’ Hana said, in her sweetest voice.

‘Everyone does realise,’ Jesse said, ‘that I’m the one who actually won that hand, right?’

Hana ignored him and blew Brigitte a kiss. ‘Maybe next time.’

_Next time_ would have to wait, though, because Hana had sacrificed nearly her entire stack getting back at Brigitte, and she had to admit _winning_ was an odd way of looking at it when the other woman still had a fair few chips left. But that was okay. It wasn’t so much that Hana had lost her chips to Jesse; he was just taking care of them, and one rotation of play later, as the pot began to swell and the lights in Jesse’s eyes came on again, it was time for them to come home.

_J♣, 7 ♥️, A♦, 7♠, 5♥️_

Hana eyes flicked from the cards to her chips and back again. Five of the former, but only two of the latter, and she resisted the urge to click them against each other.

‘C’mon, Hana, you can’t even make big blind next hand.’ Jesse took a drag of his cigar. Lena, next to him, made an exaggerated face of disgust. ‘All in or nothin’.’

‘And watch one of you take most of the pot? I don’t think so.’

He sighed. ‘From where I’m sitting, you ain’t got much of a choice.’

Hana held up one finger. ‘On the contrary! Let’s see. I’ll raise’—she tossed one chip into the pot—‘but, oh no, it looks like I’m all out of money to call your bets with.’ She widened her eyes in a caricature of innocence. ‘I guess there’s nothing for it… it’s time for my _wacky bet_.’

Jesse looked around the table. ‘One of you stop her before this gets out of hand.’

‘Sorry, Jesse,’ Fareeha said, spreading her arms apologetically. ‘That’s the rule.’

‘Yeah,’ Lena put in, ‘and it’s hardly her fault you wasted _your_ wacky bet.’ She grinned and tipped his hat at him.

‘Fine!’ Jesse tipped his head back and blew a stream of smoke into the hazy glow of the bare lightbulb above them. ‘Do your worst.’

Hana regarded them all with a satisfied smirk. ‘I bet my virginity,’ she announced.

Jesse spat out his cigar. Hana watched as he spluttered and coughed over a combination of jumbled words and the smoke still in his lungs. Fareeha rolled her eyes, reached across the table, and doused the still-smouldering cigar in her glass of water.

‘We’re supposed to believe you’re still a virgin?’ she said once the fire hazard had been averted.

‘ _That’s_ your first question?’ Jesse looked around the table, harried, as if searching for allies.

Hana ignored him. ‘Why don’t you call my bet and find out?’ She waggled her eyebrows for good measure.

‘Tempting,’ Fareeha said, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, ‘but I’ve put too much effort into Angela to start over with someone else.’ She tossed her cards aside. ‘Fold.’

‘For the record,’ Lena said, grinning, ‘I officially regret folding before the river.’

‘Lena! Why are you _encouraging_ her?’ Jesse was growing redder by the second.

Lena rolled her eyes. ‘Relax, Jesse, it’s just a game.’

‘This is totally inappropriate,’ he declared. ‘I’ll have no part of it. Fold.’ He discarded his cards with little care for keeping them face-down, and Hana grinned when she saw them: _J♠, 7 ♦_.

‘Aww,’ she said. ‘Poor McCree, throwing away a full house. If only you weren’t so noble, eh?’

Jesse looked so wounded, Hana almost felt sorry for him. ‘Wait. This was your _plan_?’

She gave him a sympathetic look. ‘For a cowboy, you’re not very good at poker. I knew you had the goods, but you’d be too principled to stay in the hand, and Fareeha was obviously bluffing—’

‘Hey!’

‘—so it was a perfectly safe bet. At least these two’—she indicated Lena and Fareeha—‘know not to take things too seriously. Sorry, boys and girls, but poker is a game, and I play to _win_.’ Hana rubbed her hands together, then reached for the pile of chips in the middle of the table. ‘So, if you’ll excuse me—’

‘What about me?’

Hana froze. ‘What?’

Brigitte leaned forward, and Hana found the half-smile playing at her lips utterly unreadable. ‘I’m still in the hand.’

That was the problem, playing with someone new. Hana knew the other three so well that she’d completely forgotten to account for Brigitte—and besides, Hana had _dealt_ with her. She’d won that duel. Surely Brigitte couldn’t still be in the hand—but no, Hana thought, there she’d been, matching every bet with little fanfare, playing quietly and invisibly, so unlike their previous head-to-heads. In a few weeks, Hana had no doubt, she’d know what that meant. She’d know Brigitte’s tells. But this was now, and Hana had made the bet, and she had absolutely no clue what the cards in front of Brigitte would show, and—

Embarrassment hit her like a truck. She’d been so _cocky_ , so sure of herself, and now here she was, playing for her virginity with someone she’d only really known a couple weeks. She felt like she was in freefall, only she didn’t know yet if it was the exhilarating kind or the nauseating. ‘Um,’ she said.

‘What’s the matter?’ Brigitte’s eyes were bright with amusement. ‘Cat got your tongue? Don’t like being outplayed?’

Hana’s breath caught. She could feel the blush spreading up her face, as if driven by the sudden rapid drumbeat of her heart. She swallowed. This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t like she’d never lost a hand of poker before. She’d made a silly bet, sure, but she could own that, she could get her act together and—

‘Or maybe you _like_ being outplayed.’ Brigitte reached across the table. Her finger stopped just short of Hana’s chest, tracing the logo on her Meka t-shirt in the air in front of her. ‘Awfully cruel cat,’ she whispered, ‘playing with a sweet little bunny like you.’

Then she drew back, and Hana could breathe again. Lena was staring at the two of them, wide-eyed, and Jesse’s jaw had literally dropped, but Hana had eyes only for Brigitte. Her expression had softened again, but it was the kind of softness backed by claws. ‘Like I said,’ Hana said, proud that her voice was only a little shaky. ‘I play to win.’

Brigitte’s smile dripped confidence. ‘Prove it.’ She slid one of her cards forward with one finger. ‘This,’ she said, ‘is the two of clubs.’ The second card joined it. ‘And this is the three of diamonds.’ Hana’s eyes tracked Brigitte’s movements, mesmerised, as she selected one of her chips. ‘I see your bet…’ Brigitte said, pushing it into the centre of the table. Then she picked up one more chip, played it meditatively between her fingers, and tossed it on top of its brethren. ‘… And raise.’ Everything she did was slow and deliberate, choreographed to raise the tension between them, and Hana found herself hanging on every word, the skin of her chest tingling as if Brigitte truly had touched her. ‘Your move, bunny.’

Hana fought through the haze of—of _whatever_ it was that she felt when she met Brigitte’s eyes—and forced herself to consider the implications. It didn’t make sense: Brigitte had nothing. There was literally no way she could win—even if Hana’s hand was, improbably, exactly the same as Brigitte’s, they would split the pot, and Hana would be able to talk her way out of her bet. There was literally no way Brigitte could win, unless—

‘I don’t get it,’ Jesse said. ‘Why don’t you just—’

Lena’s elbow in his side made him squawk. ‘ _Shut up._ ’

Hana ducked her head to hide the flush in her cheeks and made a show of looking at her cards, peeling them up by the corners, one at a time: _5 ♦, 9♠_. If Brigitte had simply called her bet, it would have been simple. Hana would have revealed her two-pair, crowed her victory, and claimed the lion’s share of that evening’s chips. But that one extra chip on top changed everything. It shouldn’t have—all she had to do was match the bet, and the result would be functionally the same. And yet it _was_ different, because now there was a choice.

Hana wasn’t much given to introspection, but in that moment she made an exception. This—this _feeling_ —couldn’t be coming out of nowhere. Those other hands with Brigitte, they’d been fun, sure, and she’d meant every word of their banter, but none of those occasions had affected her quite like this, and— _Oh_. She’d meant every word?

‘This isn’t just about poker any more,’ Hana’s voice came out dry and husky. ‘Right?’

‘That’s entirely up to you, Hana,’ Brigitte said. She looked perfectly relaxed, and for the first time it occurred to Hana that she might be lying about her cards. But there was something about her, something so easy and confident, that made Hana think she didn’t _need_ to lie. Brigitte would get what she wanted—or she wouldn’t, but either way she wouldn’t be underhanded about it. She didn’t have it in her.

Because now there was a choice. Hana could call, and win—or she could fold, and lose. Deliberately.

And follow through on her bet.

Hana picked up a chip. She hated losing. It made her feel sick, the gut-wrenching sensation of fighting to the very end and then knowing, finally, that there was nothing she could do to prevent the loss. But this was not that. This was the moment she cut the thrusters and her mech hung, suspended, at the apex of its flight, the plunge below wide as the sky and rich with possibility—and then the fall.

Hana put the chip down. _Maybe,_ she thought, a little giddy, _maybe it_ was _the freckles_. ‘Fold,’ she whispered.

She met Brigitte’s eyes as she said it, and she could see something change in the other woman’s expression: her playful smile became wider, hungrier, and in that moment Hana could finally own the desire that had been building inside her all evening, the heat that now crept up her limbs and pooled in her belly. Then Brigitte was out of her chair, and Hana took the hand she was offered and let Brigitte pull her to her feet and lead her away from the table, down the corridor, towards the bedrooms, and she was vaguely aware of Lena whooping behind them, but she had time only for the pounding in her veins, the easy strength of Brigitte’s hand on her arm, guiding her.

‘Hold up! What about your chips?’

The words were like a patch of cool water in a burning sea. Hana turned around. Jesse was standing in the doorway to the common room, looking as if he’d drawn the short straw in coming after them.

For a moment, the night hung in the balance. Then Brigitte glanced at her, the question written plainly in her gaze, and Hana nodded, minutely, and was rewarded by an arm wrapping possessively around her shoulders. ‘Keep them,’ Brigitte said. ‘I won something better.’

*

No sooner had her bedroom door slid shut than Hana found herself pressed up against it, and the last of her doubts evaporated as Brigitte’s hands moved across her body, sending feverish chills right to her core. She tilted her head up, lips parted, eyes closed, and bit back a moan as Brigitte traced her lower lip with her thumb.

Then there was nothing. Hana opened her eyes. The look on Brigitte’s face, flushed and wanting, was one of the single most arousing things she’d ever seen, but still something held the other woman back. ‘You gonna kiss me or what?’

‘I just want to make sure,’ Brigitte said. ‘We don’t have to—if you just wanted to mess with the others, I get that.’

Hana snorted. ‘It’s cute you say that, but…’ She pressed herself against Brigitte. She was too short—and her boobs too small—for their breasts to press together like she’d thought they might, but the length of Brigitte’s body against her was more than enough to ensure she didn’t have to exaggerate a single drop of the arousal in her voice. ‘I’ve never been more turned on,’ she whispered into Brigitte’s ear, ‘than when you called that bet. I almost wish you hadn’t given me a choice.’

‘I had to give you a choice.’ Brigitte pulled back just fair enough to look her in the eye, and still Hana could sense her hesitation. ‘For one thing,’ she added, smile teasing at her lips, ‘my hand was total garbage.’

‘I know you did. Between you and me, I’d have been spooked if you hadn’t. But…’ Hana bit her lip. ‘You know how it is. What’s hot in your head isn’t always _practical_. I wish you hadn’t given me a choice, but I’m glad you did.’

‘So…’

She did her best to let her impatience seep through. ‘So I appreciate you checking. But I’m _one hundred percent_ into this.’ She slid her hands down Brigitte’s body, stopping to cup one breast through her clothes. ‘You beat me fair and square, Lindholm.’ If there was more than a little desperation in Hana’s voice, she was beyond caring. ‘And I’m not above admitting when I’m beaten. So, come on. Come claim your prize.’

It was as if time had come unpaused. Brigitte pushed her back into the door and her lips finally found Hana’s, soft but merciless, and Hana moaned and pulled her closer, harder, and it barely registered when Brigitte hoisted her up, but then her legs were around Brigitte’s waist and she was suddenly, blindingly aware of the heat between her thighs.

‘Bed,’ Hana mumbled into Brigitte’s mouth, and she could feel the answering smile against her lips, and then they were moving and Hana gave herself over entirely to the kiss, trusting the strength in Brigitte’s arms to hold her up. She’d really only kissed a few people before, and this was already better than any of those previous experiences, and part of her wondered if it had something to do with Brigitte being a girl, too, or if it was simply the fact that she’d never been so viscerally _attracted_ to someone before.

The bed was right there. Hana let herself fall backwards, bouncing a little on the mattress, and Brigitte wasted no time in following her, moving up her body on hands and knees. Hana ran one hand along Brigitte’s left arm, marvelling at the play of soft skin on hard muscle, and then Brigitte twitched her arm, casually, pinning Hana's wrist to the bed. The motion made Hana’s shirt hike up, and a moment later she felt Brigitte’s other hand on bare, hot skin, and her gasp caught in her throat.

‘Gorgeous,’ Brigitte murmured between kisses to Hana’s shoulders, neck, collarbone, and all the while her hand was at work, caressing Hana’s sides and thighs until, finally, it came to a halt between her legs. Hana bucked against it, but it was no use: through two layers of clothes there was only the mildest of sensations, and she let out a whine of frustration when she realised Brigitte was in no hurry to strip her naked. ‘I can feel the heat through your shorts,’ Brigitte said, and her voice was so light and teasing it made Hana want to scream with impatience. ‘Maybe I was right. Maybe you _do_ get off on losing. I bet it made you wet when you realised I’d beaten you, didn’t it? That I was going to have my way with you, and there was nothing you could do about it…’

Goosebumps went up all over Hana’s exposed skin. The words were entirely too close to the mark. ‘You gonna just sit there and talk,’ Hana said, lest Brigitte notice the effect she was having, ‘or are you gonna do your job and deflower me?’

Brigitte’s façade of lust dropped a level. ‘Deflower? Really, Hana?’

‘You got a problem with that?’

Brigitte leaned down and kissed her, gently, loose strands of hair caressing Hana’s face, and even that light touch made Hana gasp, her skin hypersensitive to every sensation. ‘You really are a virgin, then?’

Hana was starting to get a handle on Brigitte: on the way her compassion and desire waxed and waned. It was a combination that made Hana feel at ease. She’d have been uncomfortable without the one and unsatisfied without the other, but both at once… She couldn’t deny the part of her that wished Brigitte would quit being so considerate and just _fuck her already_ , but that part was in the minority.

‘Technically,’ she said. ‘But I have a lot of… adjacent experience.’

Brigitte raised an eyebrow. ‘Adjacent?’

‘Bedside table. Second drawer.’

Brigitte’s curiosity prevailed, and she reached over to open the drawer. ‘Huh.’

‘Pink one’s my favourite.’

‘ _Really_.’ Brigitte stretched the word out. ‘Didn’t peg you for a size queen.’ Her gaze slid down Hana’s body, and Hana found herself blushing. She could all but _see_ Brigitte imagining her alone in bed with her favourite toy. ‘Want me to use it on you?’

Hana swallowed. ‘Maybe next time,’ she said. ‘Tonight I just want you.’

Brigitte didn’t bat an eye at the words _next time_. ‘All right then.’ She closed the drawer, sat up, and casually began to unbutton her shirt. Hana’s eyes tracked every movement of her fingers, and by the time the shirt hit the floor, followed seconds later by Brigitte’s bra, her mouth was quite dry. ‘See something you like?’

Brigitte’s breasts were bigger than they’d seemed through her clothing, pale and freckled like her face was, and before she could stop herself Hana reached up to brush one of her nipples, marvelling at the way it pebbled almost instantly. ‘You’re really, _really_ hot.’ Her hand dipped lower, brushing the subtle lines of Brigitte’s abs, and the strength in those muscles made a delicious contrast to the softness of her breasts.

‘Thank you.’ Brigitte’s smile was warm and genuine. She caught Hana’s hand in both of hers and pressed it back to her chest, and Hana needed no further encouragement, squeezing and fondling Brigitte’s breasts. ‘That feels nice,’ Brigitte murmured, and the contentment in her voice turned Hana on almost as much her body did.

‘I’ve never really—I mean, mine are pretty small,’ Hana said, bringing her other hand up so she could touch both at once. ‘Not big enough to fondle properly.’ She let out a shaky breath. ‘I get the appeal now.’

Brigitte laughed. ‘They get in the way, sometimes, but I’m glad you’re having fun.’ She let Hana play with her boobs a few moments more, and then she said, ‘take your clothes off for me, Hana,’ and the gentle note of command in her voice undid Hana all over again.

She fumbled to obey, her shirt and bra coming off easily enough, then paused, feeling suddenly and irrationally self-conscious. Brigitte tilted her head quizzically. ‘Sorry,’ Hana said. ‘It’s just—you’re so beautiful—’

‘Hey,’ Brigitte said gently. ‘I think your body is gorgeous.’ She palmed one of Hana’s breasts, rolling the nipple between two fingers. Hana sucked in a breath. ‘Small boobs are cute. And I bet yours are more sensitive than mine.’

‘No bet,’ Hana said, and gasped again as Brigitte’s hand worked her over. ‘I’ve already—been burned once tonight. You really think I’m hot?’

‘Hana,’ Brigitte said softly, ‘I think you’re so hot I decided to proposition you, in public, in front of three of my co-workers.’

Hana bit her lip. She hadn’t thought of it that way. Warmth flooded her. For once, it felt so _good_ to feel wanted. She could get used to it.

Brigitte pressed a kiss to the top of Hana’s breast. ‘You okay?’

‘Yes.’ Hana winked. ‘Just needed some flattery to get me going.’

Brigitte laughed. ‘In that case,’ she said, ‘why are you still wearing shorts?’

Hana’s hand was already on her zipper, but her shorts tangled around her ankles when she tried to pull them off and she growled in frustration until Brigitte intervened, sliding them off and throwing them in the corner of the room, and then the other woman was between her legs, kissing the insides of her thighs, and Hana would have been embarrassed by the way her panties stuck to her when Brigitte eased them around the curve of her ass if she hadn’t been so, _so_ ready for something to fill the scorching heat inside her.

Brigitte didn’t make her wait long. She kissed Hana’s clit once, gently, and Hana twitched and squeaked at even that slightest contact, and then Brigitte was moving back up her body, her hand replacing her mouth, and she caught Hana in a deep kiss just as a finger parted soaking folds and _finally_ slid inside, and Hana moaned and pulled her closer, kissed her harder.

‘What do you like?’ Brigitte said, pulling back just far enough that Hana could make out the details of her face. Her lower lip was swollen where Hana’s teeth had grazed it, and her hair was falling into disarray.

‘More,’ Hana gasped. She was twitching, tightening reflexively around the finger inside her. How was it that a single finger could feel less satisfying than none at all?

‘More what?’ Brigitte was grinning mischievously, her hand working back and forth in lazy, entirely unsatisfactory thrusts.

‘More fingers,’ Hana clarified, then hissed as Brigitte’s thumb grazed against her. ‘And watch my clit. It’s too—too sensitive right now.’

‘Noted,’ Brigitte said, and then another finger was pushing into Hana, and where one had been nothing but a tease, two were enough that she could really feel herself stretching to accept them, and she mewled, torn between arousal and embarrassment, as the realisation that _someone else_ was doing this to her washed over her.

Brigitte’s other hand was on her nipples, teasing and pinching, and Hana felt pulled in all directions, wanting to buck into the fingers spreading her open so deliciously, wanting to arch her back into the pleasure radiating from her chest and between her legs, and she could feel her wetness run down her thighs and knew there’d be a damp spot on her bed when they were done, and she opened her mouth to say something—anything—and all that came out was ‘ _More._ ’

Brigitte obliged her, the third finger slipping in as easily as the first two had. Hana sighed in satisfaction as Brigitte’s hand slowed, three fingers buried as deep within her as they’d go. The fullness felt— _comfortable_ , in a way her toys didn’t, even the thickest ones. ‘More. Please. All four,’ she said.

‘You sure?’

‘ _Yes_ , I’m sure,’ Hana said, breathless, as Brigitte started moving again. It took her a few moments to arrange her fingers properly, and then she was sinking into Hana again, and this time only her thumb remained outside. ‘And suck on my nipples,’ Hana added, her voice on the verge of breaking as Brigitte’s hand thrust into her, and she _knew_ , logically, that Brigitte’s fingers couldn’t be _that_ long, but it felt like Brigitte was reaching deeper inside her than anything ever had, and logic went out the window the more Brigitte picked up the pace.

‘Are you always this demanding in bed?’ Brigitte said, voice backed by laughter, but she bent to her task regardless. Hana’s hands fisted in the sheets the moment Brigitte’s mouth enveloped one of her nipples.

‘I don’t— _know_ ,’ she said, the last word coming out as a squeak as Brigitte’s fingers curled inside her, stretching her open almost but not quite to the point of pain. ‘Seeing as you’re my first and oh, _fuck_ , keep doing that.’ Hana fought for control of her muscles, promptly lost the fight when Brigitte’s teeth grazed her nipple, her back arching and her legs twitching, and slowly recognised that, no matter how good she felt, she couldn’t take much more. ‘Touch my clit,’ she said, chest heaving, ‘when you want me to come.’

Brigitte was no longer inclined to patience. Her thumb brushed Hana’s clit, once, and Hana cried out, her whole body on fire, writhing as she came, and it was like nothing she’d felt: the fullness between her legs, the heat in her abused nipples, the sudden, perfect spike of pleasure in her clit coming together and blanking her mind for long, long seconds.

She came back to herself to find her limbs still twitching, her breath still coming in fast, pleasured gasps, and Brigitte holding her through it all, whispering in her ear: ‘It’s okay, bunny rabbit, I’ve got you. You were _beautiful_.’

Hana blushed long and hard, then, the orgasm wiping some of the haze from her mind and driving home just how… uninhibited she’d been. Weren’t people supposed to be nervous, their first time? And yet, with Brigitte’s voice anchoring her, it was impossible to feel anything but warm and safe and _cared for_. ‘That was—’

Brigitte looked at her. She was sitting up, now, sucking her fingers clean, one by one, and despite everything the sight sent another jolt of arousal racing through Hana’s limbs. Hana caught Brigitte’s hand before she could finish, bringing her middle finger to her own lips, and met the other woman’s gaze as she licked it clean. ‘Yes?’ Brigitte said, and her voice was so thick with desire it made Hana’s heart speed up all over again.

And yet, even with the taste of her own come in her mouth, she wanted to find the right words, first. ‘I think,’ she said at last, ‘I think that I got really, really lucky tonight. I was expecting to—I don’t know, fool around, and it would be fun but nothing special. A safe way to tick the box, you know, get it over with.’ Hana blew out her cheeks. ‘But that was… that _was_ special. You were _perfect_. It’s like… I had this fantasy, maybe, that I wanted someone to claim me, but at the same time I didn’t _actually_ want that, and you… you made it real for me, somehow. Toed the line, you know? Made me feel like I belonged to you, but… in a good way.’ Brigitte was looking at her, intent and curious. Hana blushed and looked down, found she was now staring at Brigitte’s breasts, and blushed even harder. ‘Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is… thank you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Brigitte said, slowly. ‘That means a lot to me.’

‘I don’t know how you do it,’ Hana added. ‘You did exactly what I told you to and it _still_ felt like you were in control the whole time.’

A slow smile spread across Brigitte’s face. ‘I was going to say, how is it that _you_ were in control the whole time, even though I was holding you down for most of it.’

Hana laughed. ‘Win-win, huh?’ Her eyes flicked down to Brigitte’s shorts, then back up. She licked her lips. ‘Anyway, do you want me to… ?’

‘You don’t have to,’ Brigitte said, too quickly.

‘Hey. Did that turn you on?’

Brigitte snorted. ‘Yes, it turned me on.’

Hana grinned. ‘You wanna come?’

‘Well. Yes.’

‘But?’

Brigitte shrugged. ‘It’s kinda hard for me to come. I have to really be able to grind against something, you know?’

Hana reached up, pulled her down, and kissed her, soft and deep. It felt bizarrely normal, tasting herself on another woman’s lips. ‘Grind on me,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind. I get to choose what losing my virginity means to me, and I’ve decided it’s not done until you come, too.’

Brigitte studied her, a hint of a blush appearing in her cheeks. ‘Can I… Can I ride your face?’

‘Anything you like.’ Hana smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m your prize, remember? Come on. Use me however you need to use me. I want you to.’

A moment more, and then Brigitte was undoing her shorts, tossing them aside, sliding her underwear down her long, muscular legs, and Hana couldn’t take her eyes off her for a second. Brigitte straddled her, resting lightly on her stomach for a moment, and Hana could feel how wet she was. ‘Push me away if it’s too much, okay?’ Brigitte said. ‘I won’t mind.’

Hana nodded, and then Brigitte was moving up, and no amount of _adjacent experience_ could have prepared her for the sensation of Brigitte’s thighs settling on either side of her head, the heat and the sheer intoxicating smell of her arousal pressing against Hana’s face. It was like being suspended in a vacuum: the outside world was blocked out, and all that mattered was the woman on top of her, the task of bringing her pleasure, and Hana moaned as Brigitte began to move, grinding against Hana in a slow, even rhythm. When she moved away, Hana could see her abs, outlined in sharp shadows and the sheen of her sweat, and her breasts beyond them, and here and there a glimpse of her face, thrown back in pleasure; when she moved forward, Hana could see nothing at all, could barely breathe, and the deprivation of her senses only renewed the fire raging inside her.

One of Brigitte’s hands found its way into her hair, fisting and tugging, and the mild pain of it finally brought Hana’s hand back between her legs, because soreness or no soreness, she had to do _something_. Her other hand crept up Brigitte’s back and down to her ass, urging her even closer, and when Brigitte moaned for the first time Hana felt a surge of satisfaction so strong it rivalled even the sexual pleasure rising in her core.

‘You’re touching yourself,’ Brigitte got out between gasps. ‘Needy little thing, aren’t you?’

Hana could hardly deny it. She was far too sensitive for another orgasm, but that didn’t stop her trying.

‘I’m nearly—could you try and lick my clit?’ Brigitte sounded vaguely embarrassed. She was speeding up, too, and it made it difficult to do anything but lie there and let her take her pleasure, but Hana did her best, lapping at Brigitte’s clit every time she pressed down against her. ‘ _Oh_ , yes, good girl—’ Brigitte gasped, hand tightening in Hana’s hair, and a moment later she froze, shuddered, and came, breath leaving her in a single long moan as she rode out her orgasm, and Hana knew with perfect clarity that that was a sight she wanted to see again, and again, and again.

For a few seconds the room was quiet except for the sound of Brigitte’s breathing. Then she slowly eased herself away from Hana’s face, legs trembling with the effort, and lay down next to her. ‘Um,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

Hana was silent for a long time, finding her way back to the present moment from wherever it was she’d gone while Brigitte rode her. ‘Two things,’ she said at length. ‘First: I admit. That was _way_ more intense than I was expecting.’

Brigitte winced. ‘Sorry. Was it okay?’

‘Yes, because, second: I’m starting to think I might have some submissive tendencies.’

Brigitte slung an arm over her stomach, casually possessive. ‘You don’t say.’

Hana cleared her throat. ‘Something to keep in mind, um, going forwards.’ A beat. ‘I should get some tissues.’

‘Let me.’ Brigitte grinned. ‘Not that I mind seeing you with my come all over your face, you understand.’

Hana blushed, then squeaked in surprise when Brigitte leaned in and began to lick her face clean. It was a strange sensation, unexpected, but there was something deeply intimate about it, too, and she closed her eyes and let Brigitte finish.

‘Sorry. Was that weird?’

‘Kind of.’ Hana smiled. ‘But I didn’t mind.’

They lay in silence for a while, sweat cooling on their bodies. ‘I think,’ Brigitte said slowly, ‘that it’s fair to say tonight exceeded both our expectations.’

‘Yes. Very exceeded. Weird to think an hour ago we were still playing poker and I only vaguely knew how much I wanted to fuck you.’

‘But you knew?’

‘Yep. A bit. I knew I thought you were super hot, anyway, and it took my brain a little while to put two and two together.’

‘I’m glad it did. _Really_ glad.’

Hana traced an idle pattern on Brigitte’s shoulder. ‘Is it weird, how easy it is to think about next time?’

‘No. I don’t think so. This is the easy part, right?’ Brigitte smirked. ‘We’re young, attractive, it’d be weird if there _wasn’t_ a next time.’

‘True.’ Hana paused. ‘So, was I worth the two hundred bucks you left behind in chips?’

‘You were worth at _least_ three hundred.’ Brigitte grinned. ‘Does that mean I have to beat you at poker every time I want to fuck you?’

Hana shivered. ‘No. Not poker. I don’t want to be responsible for McCree’s heart giving out.’

‘Well, it can’t be video games, not if you ever want to sleep with me again.’

‘You any good at pool?’

‘Yeah. Pretty good.’

‘I’m _terrible_. I reckon you have at least three guaranteed wins before I catch up.’ Hana raised her eyebrows. ‘And I _will_ catch up. Just making that clear.’

‘Three evenings,’ Brigitte said, and there was no other word to describe the satisfaction in her voice than _purr_. ‘A girl can get a lot done in three evenings.’

Hana’s mind clouded with possibilities as she rolled over, cataloguing every delicious ache in her body, and made herself comfortable against Brigitte’s breasts. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, mastering pool could wait a little while.

After all, Brigitte would never know if she threw a game or two.

**Author's Note:**

> Psyche! When I said "self-indulgent smut" what I meant was "smut that's full of talking and feelings and navigating the line between fantasy and reality". In all seriousness, this is the first time I've felt comfortable posting porn online - please let me know if you liked it! <3
> 
> (I was going to split this in two and make y'all wait for the smut, but I thought that would be mean. I hope you appreciate it. :D)


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